Tears of the Setting Sun
by Symphony-in-Black
Summary: Abel and Esther are sent to the small town Aosta, Italy to help the local church solve a series of brutal murders. Cardinal Caterina Sforza suspects this is the work of the Rozen Kreuz Orden, but there is more to this mystery than meets the eye.
1. Prologue

"What? No! Stay away from-!"

The man couldn't finish as the bullet carved a sleek path through his skull. Blood burst through the center of his forehead, spattering the wall, floor, and clothes of the killer who stood only a few steps away with arm extended, gun held firm in gloved hands, eyes stone cold. The killer scanned the rest of the small room of the single story farm house at the edge of town. Three more bodies lay on the floor, blood emptying from their wounds.

A faint light was cast through the curtained window from the twin moons in the sky. The killer's arms fell back limply. The figure stayed unmoving in a trance-like state for a moment before putting the gun inside the inner pocket of their jacket, taking a few steps to the entranceway of the room, and carrying the black briefcase that sat there over to the corpses.

The clinking of glass sounded as various vials, jars, and bottles were taken from the case. A knife glinted in the eerie light of the room - it would soon be red and dripping, cleaned only after the final slice had been made in the body of the small six year old girl that lay lifelessly next to her mother, eyes still filled, even in death, with fear and confusion.

Once finished, the killer lined the bodies up, closing their stunned eyes, and covering them with a blanket. Lantern oil was spread over the blanket and throughout the house. The figure stepped outside, closing the door lightly behind them and breathing in the night air that was cool and refreshing compared to the malodorous atmosphere enclosed in the house. The gloves the figure wore were thrown to the ground by the front door.

In a few short seconds the little building was up in flames. The bright reds, oranges, and yellows contrasted greatly with the black night sky. The eyes of the killer stung and watered as they stared, unblinking, at their sin turning to ash.

Part of the roof collapsed, causing the figure to blink rapidly, providing relief to their eyes. The killer reached into their coat pocket once more, this time removing a rosary and rapping it around their hands, which they then placed together palm-to-palm.

For the first time that night, the figure spoke. The words flowed softly, but clearly, from the parted lips.

"Heavenly Father, show kindness to the lambs that now journey back to your arms. Give them guidance and peace in their days to come in Heaven, as they bask in your eternal glory, O Lord….Amen."

The killer gave one last look at the blazing building, then turned and quickly hurried down the path to take shelter in the shadows of the buildings of the town. The briefcase felt heavier than normal, but the figure ignored the weight of the encased misery. This was not the first, or last time, such sadness would be witnessed and contained.

Sirens filled the night air - piercing sounds that seemed to give voice to the anguish of the souls that traveled to the grace of God that night. The fire would be completely doused in a few hours, the smoldering remains of the building blotting out the moonlight with dark clouds, but the pain of the flames in the night sky would not be forgotten.


	2. Chapter 1

The bright, early evening sun shone high in the sky. Light glared down and glinted off the edges of the glasses of a tall, silver haired man that stood completely in black.

Abel Nightroad gave a deep sigh, and slumped onto the bench outside of the train station of Aosta, a quaint little town located in the northern most part of Italy. He tilted his head back and pushed his glasses farther up the slope of his nose with the tip of his index finger. His stomach gave a deep gurgling sound that made a few locals that were passing by turn their heads.

"Oh, the sound of misery and pain that so plagues me. The life of a priest is no life to live. I haven't eaten in days."

A smack sounded in the air. A young girl, not yet in her twenties, sat to the left of the starving priest. Her flaming red hair contrasted greatly with her startling blue eyes and the pure white robes she wore. She gave a little huff and cleared her throat.

"_We_ haven't eaten in days, Father. And will you stop complaining? I'm sure we will be greeted with a freshly prepared meal once we get to the church."

Abel tenderly touched the growing bump on his head.

"Yes, that is _if_ we ever get there. Our escort is late…. And must you hit so hard, Miss Esther?"

Esther Blanchett gave a little sigh of her own. It was true that the escort sent by the church was already a half of an hour late, but whining and complaining, as the priest beside her was so apt to do, was not solving their dilemma. They would have traveled to the church themselves, but had been given specific orders by the bishop of the church, with extra reinforcement from Cardinal Sforza, to wait at the train station for their guide through the town.

'But it's no wonder it was so insisted we have a guide,' Esther thought. The small town was normally a peaceful place; a community of two races, vampires and humans, whom lived in harmony, and therefore should surely be seen as an inspiration for the rest of the world. But lately there had been a string of murders in Aosta. Both sides blamed the other, so civil unrest was becoming quite a problem. The murders normally took place in the dead of night, too, which the time was closely reaching. 'It is unnerving,' continued Esther in her thoughts, 'to just sit here as the sun sets, knowing what happens in this town after the final rays of light disappear from the sky.'

With the thought of impending doom fresh in her mind, Esther squirmed uncomfortably on the bench and wringed her hands anxiously. Her imagination didn't help to calm her as she pictured what the future would be like if they never made it to the church; blood strewn across the ground, Abel's body sliding off the bench, his head rolling on the ground a few feet away. Her own body, battered and bruised, because surely the killer would defile her before killing her. The images were so vivid, that Esther didn't notice that someone had approached them from behind.

"Excuse me."

Esther jumped and let out an ear piercing shriek that seemed to awaken Abel from his own reverie, and caused him to jump as well. The voice from behind them chuckled softly. The high-strung nun and the quirky priest turned to see that the voice came from a young woman behind them. She wore a simple burgundy dress, with an olive colored hooded cape thrown over her shoulders. Her eyes were a soft grey, her hair jet black, and she carried two paper grocery bags, one in either arm.

"I'm sorry I scared you. You must be Abel Nightroad and Esther Blanchett, the ones they sent from the Vatican to help us here. I apologize for being so late. I wanted to pick up some things, fresh from the store, so I could make a good meal for you two, but here I ended up making you wait."

She smiled and waited for a reply from the two that still seemed slightly astonished by her sudden presence. Abel spoke first.

"You…you are our escort?"

The woman continued to smile. "Yes. I'm sure you expected a nun or priest dressed similar to either Esther or yourself, but I'm afraid my disappointing, and rather rag-tag, homeliness is all you get," she said, her bottom lip jutting out in an exaggerated pout.

"N-no, that's not what I…um…" Abel stuttered and flushed.

"It's alright," the woman laughed and smiled again. "I know what you meant. They sent me because they thought it would be most convenient. I know the town well, plus, as I said, I was already out at the store. But we can chat more later. It's getting dark and we should be going."

Without another word, she started off, tapping down the few steps of the platform of the station, and heading through the west end of town. The streets were quiet as they traveled, with only a few people bustling here and there, hurrying to get to the safety of their homes.

"The church is located in the center of town. It should only take a few minutes to get there."

They continued on, passing a fountain on the way which spilled golden water. Esther stopped at the sight of the anomaly, transfixed by the brilliant liquid that gushed out of the spouts. Abel, recognizing that Esther had stopped, slowed himself, and turned to her.

"Esther. Is something the matter?"

"…No…it's just really beautiful is all."

"We call this fountain the 'Tears of the Setting Sun.' It's located on the west side of town because, well, the sun sets in the west. At this time of day, when the sun is disappearing behind the buildings and the mountains, the water turns golden, like the sun is crying," the woman said. "It was built by my fiancé. When he made it, he said it represented the sadness of the sun having to say farewell to the joy it brought the people." She continued on as Esther remained staring, seeming to enjoy the brief story about the radiant water. "There's another on the east side of town. They both flow at different times of the day, something to do with the pipe work, I don't quite understand it. Anyway, we call that one the 'Tears of the Rising Sun.' Happy tears, this time, because the sun gets to shine again." She spoke again, this time her voice got softer and somber. "But nowadays the sun isn't happy when it rises…. Both the fountains represent the sadness that has fallen over this town. The sun cries because it knows it will lose someone it brought joy to when it sets, and it cries again for that lost soul when it rises."

This made Esther shift her gaze to the woman. She noticed that the woman's eyes looked darker now, full of sadness and contempt as she stared at the fountain.

The woman sighed, her eyes seeming to go back to their original brightness as she pushed the pain and memories towards the back of her mind. "Let's continue on."

Again they walked, this time a heavier air floated around them.

"So," Abel started, trying to break the tension, "do we get to know the name of our lovely escort?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. How very rude. My name's Renata Noren. But, please, call me Ren."


	3. Chapter 2

"Um…is that healthy?" Ren and a few of the Sisters of the church were huddled in the kitchen, watching as Abel stuck twelve cubes of sugar in the small cup of tea they had made him upon their arrival.

"Don't worry, it's perfectly fine!" Abel said. "Low blood sugar, you know. Though I do wonder if maybe I should add one more, just for good measure…." He started to stir the sweet concoction as he contemplated the addition of the thirteenth cube.

Everyone continued to watch in amazement as he finally set the spoon down, mumbled 'I suppose twelve will do,' and took a swig of the now sludge-like tea.

"If he stays more than a day he'll deplete over half our stock of sugar," one of the nuns whispered. This caused an outbreak of small chortles to erupt from the group, and made them laugh even harder when the one who spoke continued on with 'I'm serious!'

Abel continued to drink his tea with a silly grin on his face, unawares that the gaggle of giggling girls was laughing at him. Esther, who was used to the Father's regular and outrageous consumption of sugar, sat at the opposite end of the small kitchen table sipping her own tea, happy to finally have something in her stomach, and finding amusement in the awe that the others had with Abel's strange habits.

The clicking of footsteps echoed down the hall. The heads of the nuns turned, and they hurriedly exited the kitchen, still laughing lightly, to get back to the duties they were supposed to be performing before they got caught. The only one who hadn't noticed was Ren, who was busy topping off Abel's cup of tea and refilling the sugar dish - Abel deciding that he would need a few extra cubes to mix into the next cup.

"Ren!" The stern tone and suddenness of the voice caused Ren to jump, dropping the sugar dish, which was caught, with a flash of extreme and unexpected speed, by Abel, who muttered a sigh of 'So close,' and sat the container safely on the table.

Ren breathed heavily, turned around, and stated meekly, "Yes, Bishop?"

The stern voice had come from an older woman, in her late thirties, who was dressed in a white habit similar to Esther's, had piercing brown eyes, and long, brown hair that framed her face and ran down to mid-back. The sharp features of her face made her look pointed and shrill, but she was a very gentle woman…as long as you didn't get her too mad.

"You're late, Ren. Didn't I stress to you the importance of bringing our guests to the church on time in case the killer was roaming about? Or what if there had been a fight between the local people and they had gotten involved?"

"Sorry, Bishop. I just wanted our guests to be treated to the best on their first night here."

The older woman sighed, her muscles relaxing and her eyes softening. She ruffled Ren's hair as she spoke. "That's fine. Just try to hurry next time you go shopping and you need to be somewhere." She turned to Abel and Esther. "Let me officially welcome you to Saint Anthony's Church. I'm glad you made it here safely Sister Blanchett, Father Nightroad. I trust your train ride went smoothly as well?"

"Yes," Abel spoke, "though it would be all the better it they could make it less bumpy, and the food cheaper." Abel extended his hand. "It is nice to finally meet you Bishop Victoria Amadea, if I remember correctly."

Bishop Amadea grasped his hand and pumped it up and down firmly. "You do, and it is nice to meet you as well, Father." She moved on to greet Esther, Abel shaking the feeling back into is hand as she turned. Ren shook in silent laughter at this, and watched as Esther suppressed a flinch from the unyielding hand shake from Amadea.

"Bishop, why don't you talk with them in the dining room so I can start to prepare dinner?" Ren said, sparing Esther any further hand discomfort.

"An excellent idea." She gestured for Abel and Esther to follow her as she exited the room. Ren mouthed a silent 'Good luck' to the two as they obediently tagged along with the Bishop.

* * *

"Ren is an interesting young woman, Bishop. Does she cook for you often?" Abel inquired, making small talk as they ambled down the hall.

"Yes, in fact she makes our meals, and helps us to clean, everyday. She lives with us here at the church, after all, so that is her way of thanking us and repaying us with her own kindness."

"She lives with you?" asked Esther, a little shocked because she had never heard of anyone who lived in a church that was not, or did not turn out to be, as she did, a nun. "Is she on her way to becoming a nun?"

"No," the Bishop said with a hint of sadness. "She is faithful to the Lord, but I do not wish she believes to become one. She is happy how she is. She would not be one, anyway, if things had turned out differently."

"Differently…?"

"Ah, here we are."

It only took a short time to reach the dining room. It was a simple room compared to the halls and chapel of the church. In it was a long wooden table adorned with a simple white table cloth and candles at both ends, a vase filled with wild flowers in the middle It was set with two plates and silverware, as well, for the oncoming meal for the church's guests. The room was further lit with candles that hung on the wall and gave the room a warm, welcoming feeling.

"I hope this will be a sufficient place to discuss everything that you need to be filled in on." Bishop Amadea walked to the end of the table and sat down at the head chair. Abel and Esther followed suit, sitting on either side of the Bishop.

"So, what have you been told already, Father? And what questions do you have about the situation?"

Abel scratched his head. "Well, we've been told the basics; multiple murders, no recognizable connection between the victims, and no lead of who the killer might be." He absentmindedly pushed his glasses farther up the bridge of his nose. "I suppose my first question would be: what started all of this? Is there any event that could have prompted someone to do these things?"

Amadea sighed. She folded her hands in front of her face and focused on the flickering candle light as she began. "There was an incident that we believe might be a partial motivator for whoever the culprit may be. As you know, this is a neutral town, and the people, vampire and human both, get along well enough. About seven months ago, in the late evening, a young man was killed, but not in the sense of these latest murders. This death was quite by accident."

"There was a party that night, and as is common with celebrations, there was a good bit of drinking with the general merry-making, and with drunkenness there is always a loss of social decency and character. I'm not exactly sure what, but things were said that upset some vampires that were walking around town at the same moment the instigators came stumbling down the street."

"Arguing called the young man, Aeron Makary, out from his house. It is horrible of me to say, but if he hadn't interfered things could be far worse than they are now in this little town. At the time he got there, fangs were being bared along with small, but effective, either against human or vampire, pocket knives. The blade made of pure silver, if it is unclear. The two that were doing the most bickering on either side lunged. Aeron was able to stop the two from killing each other, but he sacrificed his own life in the process. He was bitten first, stabbed through the heart second, and, thankfully, even in their drunken and angered state, the two realized they should stop, that they had killed one of the greatest friends of this small town. He was kind to everyone, and he was a great innovator. One of his greatest achievements was the fountains. I'm sure you saw at least one of them on your way here."

Esther's eyes widened and she spoke for the first time since they had entered the dining room. "He built the fountain? Then that means he's…. "

"So she told you about the fountains already then?" Amadea asked.

"Yes, but she never mentioned that he had died..."

There was silence, all heads downcast in silent prayer. After a few moments Abel lifted his eyes and looked to the ceiling in thought.

"Bishop Amadea, if I could, I would like to venture a theory."

"Of course, Father Nightroad. Any insight you might have will be most welcome."

"Yes, well," Abel clasped and unclasped his hands a few times before settling them on his lap. "Forgive me, but couldn't Ren be the killer?"

A hand smacked the table and the screeching sound of a chair being pushed out with great gusto resonated around the room.

"Father, how could you say that?!"

Abel had expected Amadea to be upset, but it was Esther who stood, on the brink of tears, staring at him.

"I understand that her grief might have caused her to think such things, but…but how could you think she would actually go through with it?" Esther bit her lip and looked down. "I know we've only known her for a short time, we can barely call her an acquaintance, but I don't believe she would ever-"

"Yes, Esther I know," Abel spoke soothingly, "but-"

"No! I won't let you say it!" Tears were flowing steadily from the corner of Esther's eyes now. She had watched many people she loved die and she had never thought of taking such action. Her heart ached with the very thought that the woman they had just met, who wore what she now saw as a brave smile, would be perform acts so villainous.

"Esther," Amadea unfolded her hands and placed one on the girl's shaking arm. "Esther, there's no need to yell at the Father. We thought the same thing as well-"

"But-"

"Listen," she squeezed Esther's arm. "We thought the same thing as well, but it would make sense that she would kill and take revenge on the ones who killed him, correct?"

"I…yes, I suppose so."

Amadea smiled warmly. "But she hasn't. When the killings started it's true that one of the members of the human group was the first dead, but since then the deaths have been random. There is no link between anyone in that fight that night with Aeron or Ren."

"Yes," this time Abel answered, "but you, yourself, said that everyone had relations with Aeron, he was respected and friendly. Wouldn't it be just as logical for her to go after random people and make it look like there's no connection, than go after those people involved?"

Amadea focused on Esther's hand. "But why kill the people that cared for her and gave her so much support upon his death?"

"Maybe that's what she was hoping you would question, and therefore not consider her suspect anymore," Abel continued, a little fervently. "Why would she kill them? If it would throw you off the trail, of course."

"Father," Bishop Amadea stood up gently and faced him. "You have great faith in God, and for that I respect you, but maybe you should consider having more faith in people." She strode to the entrance of the dining room. "If you could please tell Ren that I will not be available for dinner, and I will see her tomorrow morning." Amadea continued down the hallway. "I bid you both a good evening."

Silence ensued for a time after she left.

"Perhaps I went too far. It seems I upset her a bit, eh Esther?"

But Abel spoke to an empty room, as Esther had left as well. She had exited through a second entrance, unnoticed, as Abel watched the Bishop leave from the other.

"Dinner's served!" Ren cheerfully exclaimed as she entered the room carrying a tray. "Um…" she stared at the deserted dining table, well, nearly deserted, as Abel sat in the chair closest to her, utterly befuddled. "I could have made something else..."

"Ah! No, that's not it. Amadea said she had some work to finish, and Esther is exhausted from our trip. I'm a bit tired myself, so I'll be heading to bed as well. I will see you tomorrow, and will be glad to eat any leftovers you are able to keep! Good night!" Abel quickly shuffled out of the room.

Ren stood, confused and a little disappointed. "I thought everyone liked chicken..." Sighing, she went back into the kitchen and started cleaning up.


	4. Chapter 3

It was a cool, early autumn day. A light breeze gently shook the branches of the trees of Aosta, rustling the leaves that were a mixture of the colors of the summer sun and a bright, refreshing green. Even though it was still September, Esther wandered around the church with an extra layer on to fight off the chill that was about the town because of the mountainous air.

The church wasn't very big, but Esther marveled at its elegance. It had intricate detail in the stone work and statues that gave way to colorful stained glass murals depicting various scenes from the Bible. Esther fiddled with the rosary she carried as she was reminded of the church where she had been raised. The clean air of the small town and the friendliness that was carried by everyone reminded her greatly of where she came from, and how much she missed Bishop Vitez and the others.

"Esther, are you alright?"

Esther's head snapped up. She was suddenly aware that she had stopped during her reminiscing, and now stood in the middle of the entranceway to the small garden that was located behind the church. Ren stood a few feet away, worry etched on her face.

"Yes, I'm fine, thank you. I was just…thinking."

Esther noticed that Ren was wrapped in her olive cloak and carried a handful of various flowers, some of the last that would bloom until next spring.

"Are you going somewhere?" Esther inquired.

Ren gave a nod and flashed a sad smile. "I'm going to visit Aeron. You are welcome to come if you wish."

"Oh! No, I wouldn't want to be a burden."

"Nonsense, it'll be nice to have company. Plus I can give you a more adequate tour of the town on our way back." Her smile became a little more cheerful at the notion, and Esther found that she couldn't decline coming again.

The walk to the entrance of the church took little time. As the two young woman were about to exit, a voice called out.

"Esther! There you are. I've been looking for you for hours. It's a small church, but I find myself getting lost very easily." The odd-ball priest ambled over to Esther and Ren.

Esther huffed and turned away. "Good afternoon, Father," she said, her tone rather aloof.

Ren's eyes darted back and forth between Esther and Abel. "Maybe it's just me, but I sense a bit of tension. Did something happen?"

Abel shook his head. "No, nothing that concerns you, Ren." Esther snorted. "May I ask where you two are headed?"

"To the graveyard. I'm visiting Aeron today," Ren answered, confused but not wanting to push the situation. "Esther is coming with me, and then I was going to show her around the town afterwards. Would you like to come as well?"

"A splendid idea. Any reason for your visit today? It's quite chilly." Abel asked aimlessly. Esther glared at him. She knew he was trying to get information or some type of ridiculous lead for his ridiculous theory that was utterly ridiculous.

"Really? It's actually very mild today, but, then again, I am used to the climate." Ren smiled. "I'm going because…well it's not an anniversary, per se. Today was the day we were supposed to get married. I thought a visit would be appropriate, wouldn't you?" She continued to smile as she pushed open the thick wooden doors to the church. "We should be off. I wouldn't want the flowers to start wilting before we even got there."

* * *

The graveyard was small, and in that sense, fit the town perfectly. It was located on the east edge of town in a small pine grove that was grown specifically to house the stones of each of the departed. The idea was to protect the markers from the elements, and provide an area of solitude and tranquility for the visiting and already dead. A twisting, dirt path led to the enclosed space. Some of the leaves that had already fallen crunched under the feet of the trio as they approached the tiny cemetery.

"Wow," Esther stated in fascination. This was the third time she had been impressed by how enchanting the small town, and all its assets, could be.

"It's beautiful, isn't it? This was another idea of Aeron's. He, and the men from the town, hiked to the mountain and dug up a few of the older pines that lived there and replanted them here along with some smaller trees and shrubs. He said the dead would feel more comfortable in their departure. A house for their graves would let them rest peacefully as if they were in their own homes again."

"He was quite the innovator, wasn't he?" commented Abel.

"Yes. One of the reasons why I love him, I would say."

They walked a bit farther, Ren in the lead, unaware that behind her Esther was glaring daggers at Abel, with the said priest feigning innocence by staring fixedly at the clouds as if he had just noticed them floating in the sky.

"Ren, my fair lady." Ren glanced to her left. There stood an older man and his wife, both waving at the new arrivals to the cemetery.

"Jeanne, Ulrich. I didn't notice you. I'm sorry."

"Eyes for only one, eh?" Ulrich chuckled good-naturedly.

"I suppose you could say that." She looked from them to the graves next to them. There were four of them, fairly new, only about a week old, the dirt still settling to its former position, the edge of the grass where it had been pulled back still noticeable. "Have you come to visit them again?"

The old, wrinkled faces of the long married couple smiled sadly. "Yes," spoke the woman this time. "It was tragic, how they went. I wish I could have seen them once more before they passed. I wish they were still alive so I could see them now. Has the church uncovered anything new yet?"

"No, unfortunately not, I'm sorry. Is there anything I can do to help you?"

"Not unless you have a way to bring back the dead, little lady," Ulrich lightly joked.

"Maybe I do," Ren stated airily. Abel peered curiously at her much to Esther's disgruntlement. "But if I did, everyone would be walking around again like old times."

The two said their good-byes and started slowly down the path back towards the town.

"They seem very nice," Esther said. "Who were they visiting?"

"They were paying respects to their son and his family – a wife, a son, and a daughter. They were the latest killed."

"How did they die?"

"It was horrible. They were shot first, each one at the center of their forehead," Ren paused and breather deeply, steeling herself before continuing. "Then they were cut open, a different organ ripped out of each of their bodies. Then their house was burnt down. It took hours to put out the fire alone, and then another half a day to dig them out." Ren's eyes were blank, her stare distant, as she recited the story of their deaths.

Esther gave a small gasp and covered her mouth. "How could anyone be so cruel?"

"We were lucky to find them still well enough intact to tell what had taken place." Ren continued. "But the damage was still so bad from the fire, that we could barely recognize their faces..."

"Did they find any of the bullets?" asked Abel.

"No. We searched the rubble for hours, but they were missing from the scene."

"You helped with the search then?"

"Yes. I searched extra fervently. Their daughter brought me meals everyday when Aeron had died, when I was in too much of a depression to even take care of myself properly. I wasn't able to help her in return, though. I found nothing."

"I see. The killer knows what they're doing it seems, to remove the bullets from the scene so that no one could find them once it was their turn to scour the area," Abel stated nonchalantly. Esther wished to kick him repeatedly in the shins, but she refrained.

"So it seems…." Ren said quietly, turning from the graves and walking back a few rows to a dark, grey stone marker that reached up to the height of her knees. On it read the words:

Aeron Makary

27 years of life

An eternity of grace under the Lord

'God's gifts, however fleeting,

Shall be forever remembered.

Such strength and kindness

Shall never escape love and admiration.'

Ren knelt down, and gently laid the flowers in front of the grave. She closed her eyes and rested her hands on her lap, folding them in prayer as she did so. Her lips moved silently.

Esther and Abel said small prayers themselves and stood in the background for the remainder of the time. Esther could do nothing but watch helplessly as she saw Ren's shoulders shake lightly, doing her best to restrain the sobs that racked her body.

After a while, Ren stood, swiping her sleeve across her face as she did so to remove the few tears that had gotten past her tightly closed eyelids and trickled down her face.

"You won't have to wait long. I'll see you soon," she whispered.

Abel narrowed his eyes slightly. "Why would you say that?"

Ren paused briefly before saying, "It's getting colder, and without water, the flowers will die faster. I'll have to replace them, silly. Haven't you ever visited a grave before?" Ren cocked an eyebrow at the strange priest and smiled.

"Ah, yes, of course! That was silly of me. Maybe I'm delirious from hunger."

"Hungry again already are you? Well, we better hurry through that tour before you starve to death." She smiled and exited the row of graves, starting down the dusty path.

"Hm…it almost sounds as if she expects to be walking around with him. What do you think of that Esther?"

Esther glowered at the Father. "I think that maybe you could have at least stopped with your suspicions for a grave visit." She trotted away to walk with Ren.

Abel crossed his arms. "It's not like I was trying to be mean…" he pouted. 'But it just seems like she's hiding something behind that smile of hers. Like it's all an act,' he thought. Abel sighed and took one last look at Aeron's grave before calling out "Wait for me, ladies!" and rushing forth on his lanky legs to catch up.


	5. Chapter 4

Things continued to be awkward with Esther. She would watch him like a hawk, and glare at him any time he was around Ren and asked some sort of question. But Abel was determined, nonetheless, to either confirm or refute his theory that Ren was, indeed, the killer. He watched her for the next few days, trying to ascertain her daily routine so he could find a sufficient time to sneak into her room and snoop around for evidence, or lack there of if his conjecture actually proved to be wrong.

The gangly priest strolled down the halls of the living quarters of the church, explaining to anyone that asked that he was going to take a bit of a nap; the fresh, mountain air made him sleepier than he normally was apt to be. As soon as the coast was clear he back-tracked a few doors to Ren's room. At this time of the day she would be helping to clean the chapel. Abel slowly swung the wooden door in. The room was empty as he thought it would be.

Sighing in relief that he wasn't caught, he traipsed over to a small, cedar desk that was on the opposite end of the room and started flipping through some of the papers that lay on the top of it. He squinted at some of the weird symbols and diagrams that covered the faces of the white sheets. 'Strange. They seem familiar…but where have I seen them before?'

"Father Nightroad?"

Abel jumped at the unexpected sound of Ren's voice, dropping some of the papers on the floor. 'Crap,' he thought. "Hello there, Ren!" he said in the most cheerful and innocent voice he could muster.

"Father, what are you doing?" she smiled.

"Well…" Abel started, thinking rapidly. "I noticed you weren't in the chapel like you normally are, so I decided to make a one-man search and rescue party. I figured you're room would be the first place I should look. Upon my arrival I noticed that the wind was blowing some of the papers, so I thought I would tuck them in the drawers before they got away." Abel finished and immediately wanted to smack, or otherwise injure, himself. There was no breeze that day, and on top of that, none of the windows in her room were open.

"I see. Thank you very much. I wouldn't want to lose any of them…they're very important." Ren stepped fully into the room and closed the door. "They told me I had done enough cleaning in the chapel for today and let me leave early. But I can't just idly sit around until my next duty, so I decided I should clean my own room thoroughly." In one arm she held up a bucket that was filled, almost to the brim, with water, a small, white cloth hanging from the edge. In the other another bucket that held various dusting and polishing supplies. "I know you're a guest, but you're welcome to help if you would like. You can help me keep an eye on those mischievous papers as well." Ren continued to smile and sat the buckets down on the floor, some of the water from the one sloshing out and splashing onto the marble surface.

"I don't see any harm in getting my hands a little dirty," Abel said hastily, finish with a loud, boisterous laugh. Ren was in the room, but he wasn't going to give up now, and decided that he would be able to indiscreetly look for some other clues, or at least think about the things on the papers, as he cleaned.

"Wonderful! I'll start on that side of the room on the floor, and you can start dusting over there," she pointed to the left side of the room where a few high shelves were mounted on the walls covered with a variety of trinkets. A wooden coat rack also sat in the corner, hanging on it was a long, black trench coat. Abel stared at it curiously as he began his dusting duties, his mind working a way that he would get to search it without it seeming obvious that he wanted to.

As he brushed and polished each of the curios that sat on the shelves, none of which had any dust on them to begin with, he side-stepped towards the coat rack, and then, upon checking that Ren was facing the other way, pushed it over with his foot. The loud clatter that resulted from the fallen object caused Ren to jerk her head up and over her shoulder.

"Sorry! I'm such a clutz," Abel rubbed the back of his head with his hand and laughed nervously.

"That's alright. I've knocked it over plenty of times before, too. I thought it would be out of the way in the corner, but I find I run into it quite often." She smiled and continued to scrub the floor. Abel, taking this as a sign that he was welcome to pick it up, crouched down next to the coat.

"This is quite a large coat, Ren. Is it yours?"

"No, not really. It belonged to Aeron. It's one of the only things I kept of his after he had passed."

Abel opened the front of the coat and noticed the various pockets that looked like they were hand sewn into the interior of the jacket.

"Quite the number of pockets, too."

"Yes. They weren't there originally, but I sewed them in for Aeron. It made it easier for him to carry any tools or plans that he needed to take anywhere. I'm sorry if the handy work isn't particularly that nice. I'm not quite the sewer my mother wanted me to be, I'm afraid."

"At least you know what a needle and thread is," Abel answered back, trying to continue the mask of polite, unguarded conversation.

An object clacked on the marble as Abel lifted the coat off of the floor.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he said, though he couldn't be more delighted that he had actually found something in the coat. He dangled a rosary from his hand. It swayed from the force of him lifting it. He narrowed his eyes at the object and then widened them slightly. Some of the beads had dried flecks of blood on them.

"That was Aeron's, too," Ren stated. The broken silence of the moment startled him a little. She hadn't turned or glanced at what Abel had found, but obviously knew what he held in his hand.

"Hm…it's covered in blood in places."

There was a slight jar in the rhythm of her cleaning when he said this, not unnoticed by Abel. Ren continued to scrub at the same spot as she spoke.

"It was on his person when he died. I must not have washed it as thoroughly as I thought." Her voice was emotionless and even. Ren stopped scouring the floor, and turned to Abel, smiling. "Just another thing I'll have to clean today I suppose."

Abel gave a small smile back, and dropped the rosary back into one of the pockets of the coat from whence it had come, hanging the coat back on the coat rack that he sat up in the corner, and continued to clean, questions floating about in his already boggled mind.

* * *

"Esther, will you please listen to me for a second. Please..."

Abel walked alongside Esther as she wandered the small church garden, his hands folded in a begging manner. Esther's eyes remained forward. She tried to take longer strides to get away from the priest, but upon realizing that her longest stride was nearly equal to the shortest of his, stopped and sighed.

"Fine," she grumbled. Abel smiled gratefully at her. They continued to walk farther into the garden until they came to a marble bench that was placed by a neatly trimmed lilac bush. Esther plopped down on the cold seat and folded her arms - listening, but clearly not liking what she was going to hear.

"She seems to have an answer for everything, Esther. Have you noticed?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Abel let out a deep sigh. "Think about it. At the graveyard, that comment she made about seeing him-"

"And she gave a perfectly logical answer. I don't see why you're so hung up on it."

"Yes. Her answer was obvious; too obvious, if you ask me. It's so simple and safe that no one would suspect it to have any hidden meaning."

"Well, who would? You're the only one who really believes she did it, so you're the only one it would provide a second meaning to."

"If that situation doesn't make you suspect anything, then how about the fact that there have been no other killings since we arrived here."

"I'm sure the killer caught wind we were here. We've walked around town plenty of times now. Besides, they would have to at least have some knowledge to what the church was doing in order to avoid them for so long, so they might have even known we were coming before hand."

"You just hit the nail on the head with that one, so to speak. Who's been living at the church for several months? Who's had the chance, the multiple chances, to listen in on conversations of the nuns and priests here at the church and know their every move?"

Esther squeezed her arms together, growing more defiant. "That doesn't prove anything."

"Not quite, I suppose. I'll give you some other things to think about then. I went to search her room today-"

"Father!"

Abel put his arms up in defense. "I know, I know. But it's not like I pilfered her unmentionables or anything." Esther flushed and glared at the priest. "I did find some things of great interest though..."


	6. Chapter 5

Esther paced her small room later that night, her mind swirling with different thoughts and feelings about the conversation Abel and herself had earlier...

_"She had a number of different papers on her desk. All had sketches of symbols and diagrams on them. Now that I think about them a little harder, I believe they are from the old world, before the Armageddon. No one uses that language or type of thinking anymore. I'm surprised she even knows it, as not even a handful of people from the Vatican are familiar with it."_

_"Well..." Esther contemplated, trying to think of something in Ren's defense. "Well, she could have run across them in books here at the church. Maybe one of the books has some of those things in it, perhaps not an entire novel dedicated to them, but a brief mentioning...or something of that nature."_

_"That is possible, but extremely doubtable. The diagrams showed extreme complexity, even in their scribbled form, and the symbols were mysterious to me, many of them unrecognizable, and I have seen some of these books before."_

_"Maybe they aren't even real symbols. If she did come across them, she might have just taken an interest in how they were styled and decided to make a few more in the same way. Her fiancé was quite the innovator, as you, yourself, said, so maybe she just picked up some of that thinking from him."_

_"She does have plenty of time on her hands, I suppose." Abel made a face as if he was considering this possibility, but Esther knew he was just doing that so she wouldn't be as mad, or argumentative, with him._

_"On to the next item I found then. A rosary. A simple, ordinary, everyday, run-of-the-mill rosary. Well, except for the fact that it was covered in blood."_

_"Are you sure you weren't seeing things through your need to find something?"_

_"No, no – it was plenty real. I made sure to check for myself by chipping some of it off."_

_"It wasn't the paint of the beads?"_

_"No, the beads are blue in color. Besides-"_

_"Maybe what you picked off was the remainder of an older color. Blue is just the color that is underneath, and the last of the red has just chipped away."_

_Abel sighed. "Besides the fact that I checked myself, Ren admitted it was blood. From Aeron, of course."_

_"And what's wrong with that answer?"_

_"Afterwards she said that she had washed it before; she had just missed a few spots."_

_"And?"_

_"And if you would have seen her room, you would have known that that was a blatant lie. Nothing she had was covered in any dust or dirt what-so-ever. She didn't even have to clean today. She probably wouldn't have to clean for a month and her room would still be so sanitized you could eat a feast off of the floor and lick the scraps from the cracks besides."_

_Esther arched an eyebrow. "Don't you think you're exaggerating a little?"_

_"Maybe, but you're missing my point, Miss Esther."_

_"Which is?"_

_"She's suspect. A prominent one at that. You and the Bishop may deny it all you want, but watch her carefully for one day, Esther. Notice how she acts, how much she smiles. No one can smile so easily after what's been going on in this town; not so soon after the one person they had in the world is dead... Mourning can go on forever." Abel's eyes softened and Esther saw knowledge enter them like he truly understood what he said, like a past experience had taught him these things..._

Esther heaved a great sigh and fell onto her bed. She didn't want it to happen, but the more she thought about everything, the more doubt crept into her mind about Ren.

'This is so confusing,' Esther thought. She stopped her pacing and flopped down on her bed, the mattress groaning in complaint. 'Maybe some sleep will help...'

But before she could fully close her eyes, a loud siren went off and the bells of the church rang loudly. Such an unexpected and earsplitting din surprised Esther so much that when she jumped she rolled off of the bed and hit the hard marble floor.

"Damn..." Esther stood and rubbed her lower back, the place where the bulk of her weight had pin-pointed and hit the floor, slightly wincing as she did so. She ran out of her room, almost getting trampled as she stepped out into the hallway because of the other nuns and priests that hurried from their rooms to the entrance of the church.

"Father!" she called to Abel as she arrived with the rest of the crowd at the main doors. "Father, what's going on?"

"I'm not sure. All we know is there were gun shots, so it could be any number of things, but we're to move out right away. Let's go."

"Right." Esther upholstered her gun, and ran into the night.

* * *

More gun shots filled the air as Esther, Abel, and the other members of the church closed in. Esther's heart pounded hard against her chest. 'I didn't see Ren. She could have been in her room...but….' Esther bit her lip as she rounded the corner of one of the apartment buildings, her gun held straight in front of her, ready to fire if the situation called for it.

In the middle of the street a figure stood shaking. Esther gulped. The figure seemed to be wearing a long coat of some sort. It was hard to tell because the figure was cloaked in darkness, the nearest street lamp not fully illuminating the scene. The killer stumbled back and fell to the ground, light cast on their face. A frumpy haired man sat panting, covered in blood from the massacre at his feet, shaking from head to toe, a gun, all the bullets spent, gripped in his hand.

Even though it was a gruesome scene, the ring of nuns and priests relaxed. Many of them sighed and put the guns away.

"Another local fight it seems." Amadea spoke directly across from Esther in the circle. Amadea walked forward to the man that sat, stunned, on the ground. She knelt down and took the gun from his hand. The man jolted at her sudden presence, and cowered when she put her hand on his shoulder.

"Bishop….Bishop I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I don't know...I didn't...I heard things. They said things. All of them! My brother, they could have killed my brother! I'm sorry...," the man buried his face in his hands and sobbed, repeating 'I'm sorry' like it would bring the bodies that lay motionless in the street back to life.

Amadea look solemnly at the weeping man. She gestured to two nuns who stepped forward and coaxed the man up; supporting him as they walked down the town to the police station.

"Father, Esther…," Amadea spoke as they approached her, "you are welcome to go back to the church if you wish. We have sufficient help here to take care of the task."

"We'll stay," Abel said. "I doubt we will be able to go to sleep this night after what has happened anyway, right, Esther?"

"Yes," Esther spoke softly. She couldn't fight the sorrow that hit her when she saw the scene in full, but she was relieved that this had nothing to do with the murders, and that it was not Ren that wielded the gun.

* * *

The killer walked to the window, lifting the curtains that blocked their view, and peered outside. They couldn't see it, but the figure knew what was happening. By the sound of things, everything had gone as planned.

The curtains dropped as the figure walked back over to the body and the brief case. With barely a sound, the killer finished collecting the vitals for that night, clicked the case closed, and exited the small apartment, gliding down the stairs and into the night undetected.


	7. Chapter 6

Alisa bounded up the stairs, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. She had been looking for the chance to talk to him ever since she had started working at the restaurant on the east side of town. He hadn't shown up for work that day, so the manager had sent her, and a pint of the restaurant's home made soup, to check on him.

In no time she reached the top floor of the building, breathless from excitement and the hurried journey she had made up the three flights of stairs. As she came closer to his apartment she noticed that the door was slightly ajar.

"Dimitri?" Alisa knocked on the door. It swung gently in a few inches. "Dimitri, are you all right?" She peered through the crack. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, so the girl swung the door open as she spoke. "You didn't show up for work, so I was worr-," she stopped short. Her eyes widened and she dropped the small container of soup that was cupped in her now trembling hands, the steaming broth streaming over the floor.

In the distance the church bells rang loudly to mark the passing of another hour, masking the anguished screams of the girl.

* * *

"Oh my!" Abel said as he stepped in the room, the odor that emanated from the small apartment caused him to cover his nose and mouth with his hand. Esther's nose crinkled in disgust as she entered as well. It took all of her will power not to vomit where she stood.

"So…" Amadea started, "it seems the shooting in the street wasn't the main event for the night after all."

The smell of the decaying body was horrible enough, but the sight of the desecrated remains added to the gruesome atmosphere. The body lay, sprawled, in the center of the room, a tell-tale bullet hole in the forehead that signified the unknown killer was surely to blame. The only difference with this victim was that there were no openings in the body where an organ might have been taken. Instead, the killer had gone for something completely different – the skin. Every muscle and tendon from the top of the neck to the wrists and ankles of the arms and feet of the victim were visible.

"This is horrible…" Esther said, stating the obvious, but no other words could really come to mind at the moment.

"It is," answered Abel, rather absentmindedly. He was too busy watching Ren, as she helped a nun cover the body with a blanket.

Esther followed the Father's gaze. "You don't really think…? How could she come back to the place if she had done it?" Esther whispered.

"I don't see why she couldn't if she did the deed in the first place. It took will and lack of emotion to kill and skin him, I'm sure she could muster up the same to come here and cover what she had already seen."

Esther looked uneasily on as Ren continued to help here and there with the investigation. She was as confused as ever. Sleep hadn't come to her aid, so tiredness mingled with her struggle to grasp the truth of what was going on.

'Maybe,' Esther thought, 'maybe I should just ask her. I mean, this could all be just a silly hunch of the Father's. He is intelligent…but he has his daffy moments, in fact, most of his moments are like that. I don't know….' Esther heaved a great sigh, immediately regretting the action as the smell of the corpse entered her nose. Quickly she dug out a handkerchief and breathed through it. Sighing once more, this time through the fabric, she couldn't help but imagine brain waving the white flag of surrender. She was so tired of thinking.

"Esther, if I could have your help." One of the nuns of the church waved to her from across the room, holding pieces of a curtain, green in color, that look ripped and torn. Giving up on any theories and plots for the moment, Esther set her mind on the task at hand and hurried across the room to help, careful to give a wide berth to the body.

* * *

Esther knocked on the door. She had made up her mind. She was just going to ask. There wouldn't be any harm in it, surely. If Ren denied it, or said Esther was ridiculous to think such a thing, they wouldn't be any closer, or farther, from figuring out who the killer was.

Footsteps grew louder behind the door. Esther drew in a deep breath as it swung open and Ren's curious face appeared before her.

"Esther! I didn't know you would be stopping by." Ren smiled.

"Um…well, it was just on a whim I decided to come." Esther laughed nervously. She wasn't so sure about this anymore. Ever since the Father had mentioned how much Ren smiled, she found that she couldn't help but think it was slightly creepy every time Ren did so. "Are you busy? I didn't interrupt you from anything, did I?"

"No, no. Nothing important." She continued to smile. "I was just about to clean up a little. You're welcome to join if you would like. Abel helped earlier this week, though I'm not sure if he enjoyed it or not."

"Oh, sure, why not? There's no harm in a bit of hard work." Esther stepped into the room. It was plain, with a desk on the opposite wall, a bed to her right, and a coat rack that held a long, dark coat to her left. 'There's the mystery coat,' Esther thought, her and Abel's conversation flitting to the forefront of her mind.

"You don't mind dusting, do you?" Ren questioned as she picked up a bucket that sat next to the door that was filled with a few surface cleaners and a rag.

"No, not at all." Esther took the bucket.

"You can start on that wall then." She pointed to the left, where the coat rack stood, to the wall that held multiple shelves with various amounts of small trinkets on them.

"Alright!" Esther said cheerily, so as not to portray any hidden meaning to her random, yet completely planned, visit. She walked over to the wall and looked at the objects on the shelves. Just as Abel had said, the items were spotless.

"Tch…"

Esther jumped at the unexpected break of silence. She turned toward Ren, who knelt on the floor by a second bucket that was filled with water. "Is something wrong, Ren?"

"Oh, no, I'm sorry; I just forgot a scrubber for the floor is all. I'll just have to run and get one. You don't mind staying here alone, do you?" Ren turned to Esther and gave a small smile.

"No problem. I have plenty to occupy myself with," said Esther, gesturing to the shelves behind her.

Ren gave a full smile and exited the room. Esther waited a few seconds and then bustled over to where Ren had knelt moments before. 'Maybe I should find more clues before I ask…. I'm becoming as bad as the Father.' She sighed and scanned the floor. Upon finding nothing, she knelt down herself and peered under the bed which sat only a few inches away.

Though it was hard to see, Esther could make out what looked like a bundle of cloth. Reaching under, she pulled the lump out. She could tell from touch that it was indeed fabric, but what was strange was that parts of it were hard and brittle. As she dragged the cloth out into the light, her eyes widened. The rigid parts of the fabric had a red-brown tint to them. 'Dried blood…' Esther thought. And what more, it was the same color that the curtains from the apartment they had investigated earlier were made of – a silky green.

Esther's hands clenched the fabric as she looked at the stained material both in dawning and disbelief. "It can't be…"

"Esther, did you find something?" Esther started. She hadn't heard Ren reenter the room; the door hadn't creaked, the handle hadn't clicked. Was she really that engrossed in her finding?

"Um…it's - I was just…." She could think of nothing. Esther sat there, speechless; searching for words, but to no avail. She couldn't turn her head to look at Ren, she didn't want to.

"Where did that come from?" Ren asked tonelessly.

"Well-"

"I suppose I should have taken more care to hide it before leaving the room."

Esther whipped around to look at her. Ren's face held a gentle smile, but her voice and her eyes – cold and sharp - betrayed what her expression did not.

"Ren…?"

"It's a pity. If you would have just ignored the priest like you were doing at the beginning everything would be fine. No one would have to get hurt, everyone could be happy." She continued to smile and held up a thick, wooden brush in her hand. "I really like you, Esther, so don't take it personally." She swung her arm up, her eyes taking a malevolent light as she used all the force to bring the brush hard across the side of Esther's skull.

With no time to scream or cry out, Esther was helpless. Pain shot through her as she fell to the floor. She blacked out before she hit the cold marble.


	8. Chapter 7

Abel wandered around the church, peeking in and out of various rooms, looking for Esther. He hadn't seen her at all since the day before when they were cleaning up the apartment. He found it strange that she wasn't in her room or the small garden. She would have told him if she had gone out, right?

His mind filled with deep contemplation, Abel didn't notice the figure that rounded the corner until he had ran into it. The force of the blow caused Abel to teeter, but the impact left the figure sitting, stunned, on the ground. Ren stared dazedly up at the priest, surprise from the sudden collision, and her landing, written on her face.

"I'm sorry, Ren," Abel said and extended a hand. She seemed to shake off her shock and smiled up at the priest.

"That's alright. It happens." Ren clasped Abel's hand with her own, which were clad in thin, black leather gloves. Abel took a quick, curious glance at this before returning her smile.

"I should really learn to think and walk at the same time shouldn't I?" replied Abel.

"And I should learn how to look where I'm walking," Ren retorted. She gave a small chuckle. "Are you lost again, Father?"

"No, not at the moment, anyway. I was actually looking for Esther. Have you seen her?"

"Hm…." Ren bit her lip in thought. "Oh, yes, she said she was going to take a walk through the town. She left sometime around noon, I do believe."

Abel weighed the tone of Ren's voice carefully. The cheerfulness that she normally pushed into what she said seemed to be heightened, masking whatever manner she truly wished to speak in and what Esther was truly up to.

"I see. Thank you." Abel smiled graciously. Ren smiled back, as normal, and started to walk down the hall again. "May I ask where you are headed, Ren?" He had noticed the gloves; he had noticed that she was in her traveling cloak. He wasn't going to let her attire go unchecked.

Ren paused. "I'm merely going to visit Aeron's grave again. I just have yet to pick the flowers." She turned her head slightly and looked at him through hooded eyes, a small smile one her face. "I'm sure you noticed that I had gloves on. It makes it easier to pick the roses when they can't prick you."

A chill went down Abel's spine. "Yes, of course. I'm not much of a gardener so the thought didn't really occur to me."

Ren smiled still, her eyes returning to normal. "But you are very intelligent, Father. Maybe you just need some more sleep. It's been hectic for you the past few days. Should I make you some tea before I leave?"

"No, that's alright. But thank you." Abel waved his hands quickly in front of him.

"Suit yourself. I'll see you at dinner, then." She turned her head forward and started walking again, disappearing down the hall and around another corner in no time.

Abel stood staring at where Ren's form had turned around the corner. "A walk? I highly doubt it." Abel's jaw clenched. He wasn't sure where Esther was, but knew she was okay. It was the one thing he was sure about, at this moment, when it came to Ren: that she wouldn't have killed Esther, or, at least, just hadn't gotten to it yet. With one last glance down the hall, he turned and strode to the small library located on the opposite end of the church.

* * *

The old door of the library gave an eerie creak as Abel pushed it in. The room was about as big as the dining hall, but with only one way to enter and exit. The opposite wall had high arched, stained glass windows. The keystones of each of the arches led to the painted ceiling, cherubs and clouds swirling around a bright orb that signified the Holy Lord, Himself.

The early afternoon sun shone through the windows making the dust that swirled in the air glow with different colors, giving the entire room an ethereal feeling. Shelves lined the remaining walls, packed full of books, some of them old and worn, others the spine still crisp and the pages still stuck together.

Abel skimmed the room until he noticed the person he was looking for. "Bishop Amadea," he called out as he strode across the room. The Bishop lifted her head from the book it was buried in and turned to Abel.

"Ah, Father. Did you need something?"

"Yes, actually. I was wondering if you would show me the files you had for the murders again."

"You think you can get something out of them a second time through? As I recall you didn't find anything previously."

"There's always a possibility."

"Very well then." Amadea snapped the book closed and walked over to a large, oak desk that sat a few feet from the elaborate windows on the opposite side of the room. Bending slightly, she opened the second drawer and pulled out a brown leather folder that bulged with papers, laying them on the desk and closing the drawer once she was finished. "There you are. Just place them back in the drawer when you're done." Amadea returned to her original spot, opened her book again and continued to read.

Abel gave a nod and slight bow in thanks and made his way to the desk, sitting on the matching chair behind it. He opened the folder and began his study.

'Murder one: bullet through the head, missing appendix. Murder two: again, a bullet through the head, this time missing heart.' Abel bit his lip and ruffled through the papers. 'Missing lungs, missing stomach, missing brain, missing spleen…every vital organ that a body needs - not to mention the skin.' He continued to sift through the reports. 'Vampires blood, too. Why would she need any of these things? It's like she's trying to put a body together with all these pieces….' Abel's eyes widened and he slammed the papers in his hand down on the desk. "And bring it back to life!"

"Father?" The bishop turned to question the noisy priest. She was surprised to see him already half out the door. "Father Nightroad?" Amadea hurriedly put her book down and followed Abel out of the room, down the hall.

'That's it,' Abel thought, ignoring the bishop's calls. 'She must have figured out a way.' He took long strides down the hall towards Ren's room. Upon his arrival he slammed open the door and rushed in.

"Father, what do you think you're doing?!" Amadea shouted at the priest, slightly breathless from keeping up with his long, quick strides.

"Looking for Esther. We will need all the help we can get to stop Ren, if she hasn't already started."

"Stop Re-? Is this another one of your ridiculous theories?!"

"No. It would be an irrefutable answer to my theory that Ren is the killer."

"I don't-," Amadea was cut off by a loud banging that sounded from across the room, under the bed. Abel moved swiftly to the bed, crouched down, and pushed the frame across the floor, the grinding of the legs against the marble creating a high-pitched squealing noise that echoed around the room.

Under the bed was a door, the color similar to that of the marble floor so it would blend when covered by the shadow of the bed above. Abel grabbed the latch and threw the secret door open. Inside lay Esther, gagged, her hands bound behind her back, and her feet in the air ready to give another kick to the secret door. Abel pulled Esther out of the shallow pit, untying the ropes that bound her hands and feet, and removing the rag that was tied around her mouth.

"Father!" Esther said as soon as she was able to speak. "Father, it is Ren! She's-"

"Yes, I know," Abel interrupted. "And we must hurry. Are you injured?"

Esther touched the side of her head tenderly. There was a large bump just above her ear crusted with dried blood. "Not severely. I'm sorry I didn't believe you, but how did you figure it out?"

"We need to find Ren. I'll explain on the way." He hoisted Esther to her feet and turned for the door. Abel stopped short before walking out. "Amadea…," he looked back at the bishop, her face contorted with a number of different emotions. "I know this is hard for you, but you have to hurry as well. Gather the other nuns and priests and have them search the town." Amadea said nothing, but bustled out of the room and went to prepare the other members of the church.

"Let's go, Esther." Esther nodded and followed Abel down the hall and out the main doors of the church.

* * *

"It's alchemy," explained Abel as he and Esther ran about the town. "Not a practice used in this day and age, but by eccentric, and often frowned upon, scientists before the Armageddon. Ren plans to bring Aeron back from death using it."

"But how can she do that?" Esther questioned. It was all rather confusing, but she trusted Abel knew what he was talking about.

"By using those diagrams and symbols I told you about earlier. I didn't recognize them initially, but they were all part of something called transmutation – it's the process of performing alchemy. No person has ever successfully been brought back to life, or so the books say, but by some of the symbols that were on those papers in Ren's room, I believe she has figured out some missing link to the process."

"What did she have to kill all those people for?"

"It's like a sacrificial type thing. She needed everything that composes a human being and how else does one get those than from a human?" They rounded a corner and Abel pointed up and to his left. The early evening sky crackled with white and purple light. "It seems we weren't able to stop her, but we can still catch her." Abel and Esther picked up speed as they rounded another corner, getting ever closer to the source of the light.


	9. Chapter 8

Ren had been extra careful the past few weeks - cleaning excessively, finding new and more elaborate places to hide the contents of the brief case, and the brief case itself. She had even had to instigate the street brawl so she would have time to get the final piece of her harvest. "If they would have stayed away for another few days…" she mumbled, the image of Abel and Esther filling her mind as she jogged to the small pine cove that served as a graveyard on the east end of town.

Ren scowled. She knew she didn't have long before the meddling priest placed all the pieces of the puzzle together. Time was of the essence, and as the sun slowly dipped down behind the mountains to the west she knew she was running out of it.

Once she had reached the cove, Ren rushed over to a thorn bush and pulled out a shovel. Earlier that morning, when everyone, even the nosey priest, was still sleeping in their beds, she had taken everything she needed to the abandoned warehouse at the end of town. There was only one more thing she required now.

She swung the grass patch back, and lifted the mounds of rags, and any other type of foam or cloth that lay there, out. Dirt flew as Ren rapidly scooped the remaining earth off of Aeron's grave. She had been working tirelessly for the past few weeks on the six feet of soil, so only a few inches remained, and it was no time at all before the metal head of the shovel clunked against the wooden casket.

Smoothing away the rest of the dirt until she found the clasp to the lid, Ren lifted the heavy, decorated, wooden plank. Seconds passed as she stared at his face. It was even paler now, the months he had been underground and shut within the tight, dark coffin was taking its toll. At first the stiff body was awkward to move, but once set in the correct position, lying across her back, Ren was bounding off at the same pace with which she had arrived. She assumed the body was going to be heavy, but, on the contrary, it felt almost weightless. It must have been her eagerness to start that caused her to summon the abnormal strength she now felt.

It was easy enough to weave in and out of the shadows on the outskirts of town. By now a limited number of people would be in the streets, and any that were, weren't going to be strolling down dark, back alleys.

The worn down warehouse stood eerily in the setting sun as Ren approached and kicked down the lean-to boards she had placed over one of the entrances. She walked over to the center of the dusty building and tenderly placed Aeron on the cement floor.

Breathless, but knowing there was no time for rest, Ren ran to a small crate to her left and drug it across the floor. Clanking sounded as she removed the multiple jars from within, unscrewing the caps, and removing the various organs that they contained – still fresh from stewing in the blood of the victims from which they had come. She carefully placed each organ on top of Aeron's lifeless body in the exact position in which they would be in a living human's body. Afterwards she took the vile of vampire's blood and poured it in the outline of Aeron's body and onto the organs that sat atop it. Finally, Ren unfolded the cloth that held the skin. She placed the fragile shell on the body, organs, and blood. Stepping back to make sure everything was in proper order; Ren reached in the crate and took out one final instrument, a thick, white piece of chalk.

Carefully, but assuredly, Ren first drew an inner circle around Aeron, only inches away from where the blood pooled and glistened in the late evening sun that streaked through some of the boarded windows of the warehouse. She continued around that circle, drawing a layer of both geometric shapes and strange symbols that could only be described as squiggly lines with various dots and streaks through them. About five more layers were added around Aeron before Ren stopped and rolled the chalk across the floor, away from the completed series of circles.

Ren breathed a sigh and wiped the film of sweat that coated her brow. The complicated work was done, now all that was needed was to activate the transmutation. She reached over to the black coat – she had brought it, along with a simple pair of pants and a shirt, for Aeron to wear once he came back – and extracted the sharp blade of a dagger, about six inches in length, from one of the pockets. Ren took a deep breath and gritted her teeth as she carved a symbol into the surface of her left hand, and then the right. Throwing the knife to the side once she had finished, Ren flexed her hands before taking one final breath and slapping them, palm down, against the floor atop two similar marks she had drawn with the chalk.

At first, nothing seemed to happen, but after a few, agonizing seconds, Ren's arms pricked, and pain shot through her hands to her shoulder blades. The marks and circles glowed brightly, projecting off the floor into the air. A small crackle snapped through the room, getting progressively more intense as the process continued. Ren's hair and the edges of her clothes floated around her with the electricity in the air. She squeezed her eyes shut as the purple and white lightning became brighter and more severe, all sense of feeling and time lost as the intensive air engulfed the room with one final burst.

* * *

The sky had ceased to flash and crack by the time that Abel and Esther reached the vicinity of the warehouse. When they reached its front the only movement they could detect was from the other members of the church that, no doubt, had noticed the light and run to it as well. Amadea stood a few feet to Abel's left, her face stern as she held a gun in her right hand, her left signaling to the others to surround the warehouse so that there could be no escape.

* * *

Even with her eyelids shut tightly, the bright flash of light had stung. Little by little, allowing her sight to adjust to the now darker scene, Ren opened her eyes. It took a while to focus, but as soon as she had, tears sprang forth and flowed down her face, dripping on the floor and the tops of her hands that still rested on the cold concrete.

He sat there, eyes squinting, shoulders hunched, and ruffling his hair with his one arm like he had just woken up from a nap. His voice, though soft and low, came out clearly. "Ren? Wha-"

But he had no time to complete his thought. "Aeron!" He was swiftly enveloped in Ren's arms. "You're back!" Ren choked out as she buried her face deep into his chest.

"I went somewhere?" Aeron seemed entirely confused, but didn't dwell on it as he wrapped his own arms around Ren's shaking shoulders. "I can't leave you alone for a second, can I?" He gave a small chuckle and a gentle smile.

Ren shook her head and sighed in content. But as she sat there in bliss, a nagging thought flew to her mind. The light couldn't have gone unnoticed. They were probably on their way. She bolted upright and hurried over to the clothes and jacket that lay on the floor only a few feet away; quickly picking them up and rushing back over to Aeron.

"Here, I brought these for you. We need to get going." Ren tugged urgently on his arm as soon as he was dressed, but he didn't budge from where he now stood.

"Go where? Ren, what's wrong?" He looked at her in bewilderment and worry, and then at himself and their surroundings. "What are we doing in the old warehouse? And why was I naked?"

"Later. We have to leave, now! Please!" She pulled on his arm more persistently this time, dragging him towards the opening she had come through earlier and speaking more desperately. "Please!"

"Ren!"

Ren jumped at the sound of the voice that called her name. They were already here.

"Is that the Bishop?" Aeron noticed Ren look frantically around her. "What are you so worried about? Let's go say hi. Apparently I haven't been around for a while...though I can't exactly remember what I've been doing." He scratched his head before shrugging and ambling out of the warehouse.

"Wait! Damn it, Aeron…." He didn't remember death, didn't even remember his encounter with it. The soul started to forget the most recent thoughts when the body had died. She wasn't planning on telling him the truth, just a simple cover story that he would surely believe. But if he found out what really happened now, what would happen? The man, the one who had given her the book and the beginning of the method that had brought Aeron back, had mentioned that the news could cause any sort of reaction: his body could become unstable and the soul could release, or he could be perfectly fine. The results were unknown as none of the previous tries with this sort of thing had been successful. Ren was so unsure about what would transpire; she didn't want to lose him again if there happened to be a negative effect. She faltered for a few moments before grabbing the discarded dagger, placing it in a pocket of her cloak, and rushing after him.

* * *

"Ren, please come out! We don't want to have to use force!" Amadea sighed in exasperation. Surely Ren wouldn't give up so easily, but she hoped with all her heart it wouldn't come down to having to harm, or worse, kill, the young woman.

A nun that stood on the far end of the warehouse gasped and dropped her gun, her hands flying to her mouth, her eyes wide with shock. Amadea couldn't see anything and held her grip firm on her firearm, pointing it in the direction of the shaken nun. A few of the other members of the church that were in the same area gasped and wavered as well before the figure appeared completely around the corner out of the shadows.

Aeron strolled past the gaping nuns and priests, giving them a curt nod as he passed, confused by their reactions, but not wanting to be rude. As soon as he spotted Amadea he waved. "Bishop! Long time, no see, I suppose."

Her grip loosened, but she didn't drop the gun. Amadea stood staring in disbelief at Aeron as he approached her in his normal, carefree attitude. "How?"

"How indeed," Aeron retorted playfully. "I always said that warehouse was a hazard, so how did anyone convince me to go in it?"

"Remarkable," said Abel. Esther looked at the priest who had not spoken since their arrival. "She was actually able to do it."

"How are you here? You should be dea-"

"Stop!" Ren's voice shot through the air as she ran to Aeron and hugged him firmly around the waist, pressing her forehead to his back. "Don't tell him…."

"Tell me what?" Aeron asked, puzzled.

"You should be dead," finished Amadea.

Aeron took a sharp intake of breath and held his chest. He gave a weak smile. "That's…not very funny," he said, gasping.

"Sometimes the truth isn't." Amadea said. She had noticed his movements, his reaction to the news that he should be dead. Maybe more detail would cause more to happen, something that would, as much as she hated to think it, save them the trouble of possibly having to kill him again. "Try to remember. It was only seven months ago when it happened, about midnight. You were trying to stop them when they lunged. You felt the teeth first, piercing your skin – your blood boiling with what you were becoming. And then the knife-"

"Stop!" Ren cried for a second time. "Stop! You're killing him again…." Tears streamed down her face as she stooped to the ground, holding Aeron's head against her chest. His knees had given out and he now held his head with both hands, shaking as small streams of blood flowed from his ears, mouth, and nose.

Aeron gave a pained laugh. "I…I remember…but how am I here then? And why does it hurt so much?"

"Because you were brought back unnaturally, against the will of the spirit, though you must have had some longing to come back to life to be walking around now in that body." This time Abel spoke. He kept his attention on Aeron, failing to falter as Ren gave him a sinister glare.

"You say 'that body' like it's some sort of abomination," Aeron grunted as he sat up. "Tell me, mystery priest, do I really look that bad?"

"No, not at all. Handsomer than I imagined, surely, but you're a bit…pieced together is all." Abel replied. Not missing a beat, he continued. "You have Ren to thank for all this, of course. She provided the necessary parts for your untimely come to this earth again. I'm sure you knew the Bohdans, a lovely couple with two children. They provided you with your kidneys, liver, pancreas, and spleen." Aeron's brow furrowed. "Or maybe Dalek, the one who killed you with the dagger? He faced an untimely death shortly after you did."

"What does Ren have to do with any of them and their deaths?" Aeron asked, his brow furrowing.

Abel sighed. "And people told me you were smart. Something must have been lost in the transaction. She killed them, my dear fellow. Is it not obvious?"

"Ren…?" Aeron looked at her.

Ren shook her head. "No…. No! You can't be mad at me too. I tried to find another way, I truly did, but it was the only one. I'm sorry, I'm sorry…."

"Query. Shouldn't you be apologizing to all the people you killed?" Abel said. Esther sighed and whispered to the priest 'Father, I really don't think you should be instigating….'

"Shut up!" Ren's head whipped towards Abel. "This is all _your_ fault!"

"I don't see how," Abel said.

"If you would have just stayed away, we could be gone by now! Everyone could go back to their normal lives and be happy!"

"That's highly unlikely considering you've put a permanent cloak of fear and dread over this town."

Ren bristled. "You don't know what you're talking about. You don't know what it's like to lose someone that meant everything to you! He's back now, and that's all that matters. I won't let anyone take him away again…." A feral glint arose in her eyes as her arm passed quickly to her cloak. She extracted the dagger and threw its sharp blade at Abel's head.

Even though it came as a surprise to Abel, he dodged the dagger swiftly enough that only a few strands of hair became detached rather than the blade lodged in his skull as Ren had surely planned. As the knife clattered to the ground, a shot and gasp of pain rang out in the air.

A small stream of smoke wisped from Amadea's gun, the bullet rolling on the ground and covered in blood from passing through Ren's hand, which she now clutched firmly against her leg to staunch the bleeding. "I'm sorry, Ren, but please don't do this…."

Ren took a deep, ragged breath and gritted her teeth. She glared at Amadea now. "Maybe I should have planted the blade in your skull then," she seethed.

"Ren…how many times have I told you not to be so hasty?" Aeron stood up and faced Amadea. "I'm sorry, Bishop. I know I've been brought back by horrible means…but now that I'm here I can't let you hurt Ren, whether she's done something wrong or not. I would suggest no one shoots again." Amadea looked at Aeron's eyes. They seemed a little more malicious now; the vampire blood, the vampire that he had become before his death, was making him more hostile than normal.

Two more shots pierced the air, both barely missing Aeron's head. His gaze turned to a shaking priest that stood directly behind him in the encasement of church members. In a flash he no longer stood next to Ren, but by the man, whose body collapsed to the ground, his head barely attached, blood spurting from the deep gash in his neck. "I'd rather avoid being hurt as well, if you don't mind."

"O-open fire!" one of the priests shouted.

"No, you fools! I gave no such order!" Amadea boomed. But it was too late; guns were fired from all around the circle. The bullets missed their intended target, as Aeron's speed let him dodge the deadly silver shells, but hit, instead, some of the nuns and priests, their bodies dropping lifelessly to the ground. A light tap sounded behind one of the nuns as Aeron landed, slitting her throat before she could fully turn around.

"This will be simple enough, especially if they all kill each other." Aeron chuckled. "Forgive me, Bishop, it is nothing to laugh at, but that irresistible instinct that insists there be more blood shed seems to be peeking through."

"Then perhaps you would like to fight someone that will satisfy that blood lust of yours?"

Aeron turned to the tall, silver haired priest. He sneered. "And what could you do but provide one more stain to the ground with your blood?"

Abel pushed his glasses up his nose with his index finger, the moonlight shone off of them so that in the place of his eyes there were white circles. "I suppose you'll have to see for yourself…."

Esther's eyes widened. "Father, you're not going to-?!"

Abel gave a sad smile. "It seems to be the only way to get either of them to give up, Miss Esther. Forgive me."

Esther nodded uneasily. "Everyone, you must take cover! Get out of the street!" Amadea and the other members of Saint VincentChurch stared at her in confusion. "Please, listen to me!" Esther shouted again, this time backing up her command with action as she ran over to Ren, and started pulling her out of the way.

"Let go of me!" Ren struggled, hitting the other woman's arm.

"No, you'll get hurt if you just sit there." She ignored Ren's attempts to get her to let go and drug her to the side of the street, Amadea coming to her aid, helping to get the stubborn young woman out of the way. The others followed suit and ran to the opposite end of the street, wary of whatever was to come.

Abel nodded at Esther, then turned his attention back to Aeron, who stared at him curiously, a mock smile still planted on his face. Abel took a deep breath, his next words coming out in a low, even voice.

"Nanomachine 'Crusnik 02' forty-percent limited performance – acknowledged."

Aeron cocked an eyebrow at the priest, and lunged forward. "Fool. Nothing will save you now!"

He was reaching for the priest's throat, when Aeron saw a glint to his left and heard the whipping sound made by a sharp object as it was sliced swiftly through the air. He recovered his footing and leaned backwards the object cutting his cheek, close to his eye, before he was able to fully dodge. Aeron leaped back to get a better view of what had attacked him, but what he saw he did not expect.

The priest, who had looked so harmless before, now stood before him – his blue eyes turned a crimson red, fangs protruding from his lips, his silver hair defying gravity as it flowed upward due to the electrical current that traveled between two black feathered wings that now sprouted form his back, and a scythe, black and sinister, held in his hands.

The smile had disappeared from Aeron's face and he took a step backwards, his eyes narrowing at the site. "What the hell…?"

"Vampires feed on the blood of humans, so wouldn't it make sense that there's something that feeds on the blood of vampires?" Abel smiled hungrily. "I am a Crusnik – a vampire that drinks the blood of other vampires."

"No…." Ren's voice was weak. Esther looked at Ren, who stood to her left, her arm held firmly in Amadea's grasp. "No!" Ren ran forward, but flew back due to the bishop's tight grasp. "Aeron, run! You have to get away!" The man had mentioned this, too, before he had disappeared that night. Aeron would surely die if he didn't run now. "Go!" she screamed as he didn't budge.

"And leave you here? Besides, his image may be a little on the scary side, but I think you give him too much credit. It won't be but a second." Aeron surged forward again, fangs bared, nails extending and sharpening to long, claw-like extensions. He sped through the air, disappearing from the sight of the normal human eye before appearing again behind Abel, swiping for his neck.

Abel stood smiling the whole time, his hand grabbing Aeron's wrist as he swung his hand towards Abel's throat.

"You'll have to do better than that," he growled.

He tightened his grip on Aeron's wrist and whipped him forward. Instead of his back slamming against the cobblestone street, however, Aeron stopped himself, in mid-backbend, his feet landing on the ground, the force of the blow slightly upsetting the packed stones. Spinning himself around, Aeron twisted the winged priest and flung him towards the old warehouse. Abel flew across the air, but before making contact with the decrepit building, Aeron jumped above him and planted a swift, powerful kick to the priest's chest, causing him to hit the wall with double the force, the pressure of the hit causing him to cough up blood.

Aeron landed lightly on the street as the walls of the warehouse collapsed on top of the priest who had shot through them, dust billowing through the air, masking the scene in a cloud of dirt. Aeron stayed tense, senses alert for any sign of movement from the transformed priest. The dust settled, but he stayed on guard. A few of the chunks of debris shifted, which caused Aeron to twitch and glare in their direction. He noticed a small pool of blood that sat around the crumbled remains. Relaxing a little, he smirked.

"Pathetic."

But he spoke too soon as blood flew from two gashes in the shape of an "X" across his chest.

"Ngh!" Aeron clutched at his wounds as he stumbled back, blood trickling from the corners of his mouth. The tell-tale whistling sound of a blade being swung through the air with great force caused Aeron to look up. He leapt to the left, barely dodging the scythe as it hit the ground. He planted his hands on the ground and catapulted himself up, spinning his legs and hitting Abel square in the jaw, which threw him off balance. Aeron kicked again, this time in a downward motion, the priest doing a face-plant into the ground. This gave Aeron enough time to recover his footing above the priest and sink his elongated nails into the priests back.

Abel seemed unable to move, but he retracted his wings and thrust them up, pushing Aeron off the ground and his claws out of his back. Abel rolled over and swung the scythe, slicing at Aeron's chest again. He then got up in a swift, graceful movement, as Aeron seemed to float in mid-air, and swung the scythe down hard, once more, piercing him through his shoulder blades and pinning him to the street.

Aeron's hand dug into the ground, rounding into a fist, as he glared up at the priest.

"In the name of the father, son, and holy spirit – may you rest in peace." Aeron tensed in preparation for a final blow, but upon seeing the winged priest stand motionless, he looked about curiously. It only took him seconds to realize that the blood that poured from his wounds flowed towards the priest, swirling and swaying across the ground and through the air before it was absorbed into his body.

The combination of the scythe in his back and the feeling of the life being sucked from him, made it hard to move, let alone breath. Aeron lay there helplessly, his vision blurring as his blood left his body.

"No, make him stop!" Ren struggled more than ever against the bishop's grip.

"Nothing can be done to save him now, Ren," said Amadea; she had never witnessed such power before, but upon seeing it stood in awe at the sight. "Stay here. I'm sure it will be over soon."

"No!" Ren lifted her free arm, turning her hand into a fist, and bringing it down hard on the back of Amadea's neck. The blow didn't knock her out, but stunned her enough that Ren pulled her arm free and ran away from the throng of church members to Aeron.

"Ren, wait!" Esther called out, chasing after the woman.

Ren rushed over to the scythe in Aeron's back and grabbed it; the weapon, knowing it was not its master, sent a shock up the handle, making Ren grit her teeth in pain. Mustering up all the strength she had, Ren dislodged the blade from the ground, pulling it through Aeron's back, and throwing it to the ground. She collapsed on her knees, both from the numbing electrical current from the scythe and the sight of Aeron's draining body.

Ren leaned down, gently turning Aeron over and hugging him to her chest. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…" she repeated, tears flowing rapidly down her face. Aeron couldn't answer, his eyes already glazed over, his skin shriveling against his bones.

Esther had stopped a few feet away, watching Ren as she clutched Aeron's body in desperation. Her eyes softened. "Father…" she whispered to the priest. "Father, he's dead, please stop."

Abel, seeming to have heard Esther's request, closed his eyes. In a matter of seconds he returned to his normal appearance – blue eyes, silver hair flopping and flowing down his back, a lanky, silly look about him despite the serious nature of the situation.

"I'm sorry, Ren." Abel said. Although it was necessary, and she had killed many people to bring him back, he did feel a small bit of remorse for having to kill the man.

Ren shook her head, and, through her sobs, said, "Like hell you are…."

Abel sighed. Esther stepped forward to comfort her. "Careful, Miss Esther," Abel warned. Esther paused.

"But what can she do now?"

"She's proven herself resourceful so far."

Esther nodded and carefully stooped down by Ren. "Ren…. Ren, I'm sorry. I truly am." Esther reached up and touched her shoulder gently. "But everything will be okay."

Ren sniffled. "You're right, Esther. Everything will be fine," she whispered. Esther gave a small smile. She didn't expect what happened next.

Ren placed Aeron's body on her lap, turned to Esther and quickly reached for the gun that sat in the holster on her hip. Upon gripping the gun, Ren moved her leg, swiftly kicking Esther away.

Esther recovered and looked at Ren, her eyes widening. Ren pointed the barrel of the gun under her chin. A few of the nuns gasped in the background, Amadea shouted out to the young woman. Ren had a small smile on her face. She gave a small chuckle before they turned into deeper, wilder laughs. After a few seconds they slowed and Ren turned her gaze to Esther.

"R-Ren..." Esther began.

"Don't worry, Esther," she smirked. "Everything will be okay. The circumstances have just changed." She pressed the gun more firmly against the flesh under her chin. "If he can't come to me…then I'll go to him." The hammer clicked.

"Ren, don't!" Esther lunged forward.

A shot echoed through the street.


	10. Epilogue

The day was fittingly dreary. It had been cloudy all morning, a constant drizzle dampening the earth. The hole was dug about a mile from the town at the base of the mountains under the shade of an ancient oak tree.

Esther wore a borrowed habit, her original one covered in blood from the previous night. She numbly watched as the grave was refilled with dirt, covering both Ren and Aeron who lay side by side with the black coat draped over both of them, thinking back to the last moments of the evening. She had tried to stop Ren, but had reached the young woman too late. By the time she grasped the gun to move it, the bullet had been shot and blood poured from Ren's skull, drenching the pavement and Esther.

The dirt was patted down once it had been returned to its rightful position, the priests who had buried the bodies placing the strips of grass back over the earth. A single, gray rock that they had pulled from the side of the mountain served as a tombstone, no marks made on its hardened surface to signify who lay by the roots of the oak tree.

No words were said as the gravediggers left the area. Only three were left standing by the tree; Amadea, Esther, and Abel.

"I wish I could have given them a proper burial…but putting them under the earth together will have to be enough."

Esther looked at Amadea. The older woman's eyes betrayed nothing, but Esther noticed how her tears mixed with the rain as they streamed down her face.

"I'm sure she would be happy with this," Esther said. "All she wanted was to be with him, and now she is."

Amadea sighed, turning toward the two as she did so. "Here you are, Father." She held a leather bound book in her hands, the edges worn and yellowing. "We found it in her room. I'm sure it will be safer at the Vatican than if I kept it here at Saint Anthony's."

"Thank you, Bishop." Abel nodded in thanks as he took the thick book from her. Amadea nodded back and started down the trail back to the town. He looked at the cover of the book, a faded diagram with the strange symbols on the front, the title long worn off, or possibly not even given to the book in the first place. Abel tucked it under his arm and spoke to Esther who still stared solemnly at the grave. "Shall we go then, Esther? We might catch cold if we stay here too much longer."

Esther nodded, placing a single rose from the church's garden on the grave along with the rosary that had come from the pocket of the black coat, and then turned towards the path back to Aosta. "Do you understand it, Father?" She questioned Abel as they started walking.

"I understand her sorrow, if that's what you mean. But I think she took the wrong approach to dealing with it. There is always another path, a new beginning, regardless of the pain of the past. It might take searching, but it is reachable." Abel gave a small, questioning smile. "Does that make sense, Miss Esther?"

"Mm…yes, I think it does." Esther gave a subtle smile, turning her gaze up to the sky. The rain had stopped, and she could see the sun peeking through the clearing clouds.

* * *

A lone figure walked to the small grave. The person stood staring for a while before leaning down and picking up the red rose, bringing it to their nose and breathing in the pleasant aroma.

After a few more seconds the figure sighed. "It's a pity that she had to die. The girl was quite useful. She was able to decipher all of those crazy symbols and find the missing link to completely reviving the dead." The figure tapped the rose against his lips. "Cain will not be pleased by this. Not only is the girl dead, but that damned priest has the book, and any of the notes that the girl had made."

The man turned from the grave. "I could always force someone else to bear the bad news, though. It is in my ability after all." He laughed lightly as he started his way back into the shadows of the forest from where he had come.

Dietrich von Lohengrin, Puppet Master of the Rozenkreuz Orden, looked back over his shoulder, peering at the small town in the distance. "Failure or no, though, it was nice to see my cute, little Esther again." Dietrich gave a gentle smile, a deceiving smile, which masked his wickedness before continuing on his path into the darkness.


End file.
